


Faking It

by Nice_Valkyrie



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nice_Valkyrie/pseuds/Nice_Valkyrie
Summary: L asks why Light's personal habits have changed.





	Faking It

**Author's Note:**

> Yet more Yotsuba arc amnesia-Light smut. Enjoy!

“Light. I have a question for you.”

Light had grown used to L’s low, curious tone since they had been cooped up together, but he still felt his skin prickle at the promise of another intrusion. “What is it?”

“It’s a personal question, so it’s understandable if you feel uncomfortable.”

His apologetic tone was odd. They had been forced to become _personally_ acquainted over the last two weeks; Light was often uncomfortable, and he missed privacy. He had never conceived of a lifestyle that involved showering with a near-stranger chained to him just outside the door. Sometimes he felt he could barely remember the details of the life he’d led before L had imprisoned him. “Ask away,” he said belatedly.

L’s eyes were dark and owlish. “Why haven’t you been masturbating?”

Well, that was only slightly more invasive than he had anticipated.

“I don’t really care for it,” he said, even as he remembered: just before L had imprisoned him, Light had jerked off once a day for nearly a month, the longest and most regular period of masturbation he could ever remember engaging in. He had never done it so frequently, not even when he had first discovered around age twelve that a few deliberate touches could encourage that pleasant physical sensation. He couldn’t quite place why he had suddenly made a habit of it; dormant hormones deciding suddenly to rear their heads? But he could clearly recall several pages of the magazines that he had utilized, and there didn’t seem to be anything particularly appealing about the memories.

Then again, perhaps it was just difficult to be aroused by remembering those glossy images of women when he had this odd, intense man staring at him. There was an uncomfortable fluttering feeling in Light’s stomach.

“Is it the change of surroundings?” said L. “I know that when you move a pet to a new home, they’re often uncomfortable at first, and it takes some time for them to return to familiar routines.”

Light didn’t rise to the bait. “I suppose I have been feeling leashed,” he said, shaking the chain that ran between the two of them.

L didn’t smile, but his eyes widened in that way Light had come to learn indicated amusement. “Still. Two weeks is more time than I would have expected for a young man to return to a daily pornography habit. Especially after abstaining for several weeks beforehand.”

Light processed that and all of its implications. Changes in behavior were suspicious. If L had observed Light’s sudden decrease in pornography use, that might indicate a… “Wait, you— _watched_ me at my house?”

“Oh, I didn’t treat it as a free show, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“No, I’m sure you watched me _masturbate_ in a purely academic sense.”

L didn’t say anything.

Light did feel a bit like an animal now, one with raised hackles and a growl in its throat. “That’s plenty of violation for me. Not that I begrudge you it as part of your investigation, of course.”

“Of course.”

“But I’m not really interested in having you observe any more of my private habits than necessary. The bathroom situation is unpleasant enough. I’m capable of restraining myself because it means not having to navigate the complexities.”

L chewed his thumb contemplatively. “If you’d like, I can allow you—not freedom, naturally, but whatever amount of privacy is possible,” he finally said. “I can wait in another room, with the door nearly shut. I could wear headphones.”

Light snorted. “I don’t want your assistance. If I need to jerk off, I’ll do it myself.”

“I’m concerned that you won’t.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to find out if your concern is warranted,” said Light, returning his attention firmly to his book.

Of course, now he would have to do it.

Perhaps he could simply fake masturbation—slap his thigh repeatedly in the shower, force a few suggestive groans. That was his best chance of satisfying L, aside from actually _performing_ the act in front of him, which—was not entirely out of the question. As unpleasant as the idea was, Light would have jerked off in front of L in a heartbeat if it would have convinced him of his innocence. But he doubted it would, and Light wanted to maintain as much separation between them as possible. He still wanted to get out of this mess with a sense of his own identity. So, the shower it would be, then, tomorrow.

*** 

Even with his resolve firm, this was still more uncomfortable than Light had anticipated. The worst part, he decided, had been the seconds between when he stripped and entered the shower, and when he turned the water on. L had been turned away from him, facing the corner, but the awareness that L knew what he was about to do had filled the air. At least the spray of the shower was loud and could partially drown out his embarrassment.

That presented its own problem, though, which was that Light had to put more effort into his performance if he really wanted to convince L. He had seen Internet porn a handful of times, but the men in videos never seemed to make any sounds, and it seemed obviously incorrect to imitate the patently fake moans of the female performers. Light had never seen another man jerk off.

So he made a fist with his unchained hand and hit his thigh in a steady rhythm, which produced a nice slapping sound. He held his other hand against the shower door so that the chain, snaking through the opening at the top, wouldn’t rattle too badly. He grunted loudly, and then stifled a laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Eventually he settled into a series of alternating gasps and rough groans—not in enough of a pattern to seem planned—and then finished off with a burst of quick slaps and a nice, content-sounding, “Mmm.”

Then he washed himself, quite thoroughly.

L threw the towel over the shower door, badly, so that Light had to snatch it before it fell. He wrapped it around his waist quickly and eased himself out of the shower, holding the chain in his hand so it wouldn’t fall down and hit him in the head when the door opened. He kept his eyes down as he slipped past L, who stripped nonchalantly and got himself into the shower.

Light dressed as L started his shower. All things considered, that had gone well. If L hadn’t believed the performance, he would have said something. Unless he was saving it for a later moment, when he could catch Light off-guard. Well, now that he had considered that possibility, Light would be ready for—

A low moan came from the shower.

Light froze with his shirt only half-on. Perhaps he had only imagined—no, it was definitely real, L was definitely making _obscene_ sounds and there was an unmistakable skin-against-skin noise.

Light squeezed his eyes shut. Was L faking masturbation for revenge? Or was it to make Light feel less embarrassed? If that was the goal, L was failing miserably: Light’s face, neck, and in fact most of his body, felt uncomfortably tight and hot. Then perhaps further embarrassment _was_ L’s intention; he certainly seemed to enjoy Light’s reaction when the subject had been broached yesterday.

There was another possibility, of course: perhaps L wasn’t faking anything. Perhaps his needs had simply grown too demanding to ignore, and he had encouraged Light to engage in the same activity so L would have an excuse to do it himself. Maybe the rough sounds L was making were—real.

And as he had that thought, Light’s dick reminded him, insistently, that he had not actually jerked off a few minutes ago.

Light made a swift decision. He tugged his shirt on, opened his pants, pulled out his dick and stroked. It was a little uncomfortable, dry, but he didn’t have any idea how much longer L would be in the shower. At least the volume of the shower went both ways: L wouldn’t be able to hear him in there. Light closed his eyes and worked fast. With his hand wrapped around his dick, it was too easy to imagine L performing the same motion, his cock hard, his shoulders hunching even further than usual as his need increased, and a cry breaking from his lips—

Light bit back on the sound and came into the toilet, just as L’s groaning took on a needier tone and then, abruptly, stopped, leaving only the sound of the water. That meant he had come too, Light realized, dizzy with pleasure.

He scrambled to fix his clothes and then flushed the evidence away. His immediate relief was split by L’s shriek.

“Sorry!” Light shouted. “I didn’t think!”

The water turned off. Light hastily slung a towel over the shower door and heard L drying himself as he said, “That was _extremely_ uncomfortable. Please don’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry,” Light repeated. “I just didn’t want you to walk in on me. Or out on me.”

L opened the shower door. He didn’t look embarrassed at all that he had just been jerking off—or feigning it—noisily. His skin was splotched with red, probably from the suddenly-scalding water. He never seemed to dry his hair very well, and water dripped on his shoulders, running in tracks down his bony chest and slight stomach to soak into the top of the towel at his belly button where he’d wrapped it around himself.

“What were you doing?”

Light tore his gaze away. “Using the toilet,” he said, attempting to inject an appropriate amount of abashment into his voice. Invaded privacy, he reminded himself. Bodily functions. Forced to acknowledge the animal, physical nature of your existence before another person. But the water was still trickling down L’s chest, and Light felt nervous and warm in his stomach thinking about him in the shower.

L was standing there wet and half-naked, and Light was fully clothed, so why was he feeling so exposed?

***

Having done it once, Light knew he would be obligated to keep up the shower performances. The next evening, however, L showered first, and evidently he was no longer satiated from the day before. Light was forced to grit his teeth and endure several minutes of a gradually swelling erection. He hadn’t slept well the previous night, consumed with questions of _why_ he had experienced such an immediate physical response to L’s noises.

In the shower, he spared only a moment to wonder if he should show restraint, and then he took his cock in hand again.

He still exaggerated his noises, but the satisfaction wasn’t faked, and as Light watched his semen go down the drain he thought of how strange it was that it had taken forced cohabitation and faked public masturbation to discover this private thing about himself. How long would it have remained buried if he had never met L?

After that, it became routine—not in every shower, taking his cue from L—but often enough that Light began to get hard almost as soon as he stepped into the tub. Classical conditioning. It wasn’t unthinkable that Light could find himself maturing into a normal young man. Even if it was the knowledge that L was nearly within arm’s reach, listening to him, that got Light off each time.

And then, ten days or so after the first time, Light was standing in the spray of water and just wrapping his hand around his cock when the door opened.

He jumped violently, and L, naked, almost fell headfirst into the shower from the jerk of the chain, barely catching himself on the edge of the door. Light backed though the spray of water into the other wall. There was nowhere to hide, nothing he could use to conceal—

“Ah,” said L. He tugged the door shut behind him. “So you weren’t pretending.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Light demanded. He pressed his left hand over his erection in a vain attempt to preserve some modesty, and the dangling chain nudged against his thigh. “Don’t close—get out of here.”

L took another step instead, and the noise of the water softened as it hit his skin. His hair flattened and began to drip as it became soaked. He was close enough that Light could see the way the water beaded on L’s nose and ran down around the sides of his wide, dark eyes.

“It’s nice in the shower, isn’t it?” said L, and Light’s heartbeat went crazy: L’s cock was twitching visibly, thickening as he stood there.

“It’s nice by myself,” Light croaked. His erection hadn’t flagged—if anything, he was getting harder, and he was suddenly struggling to breathe.

“Surely you’ve shared a shower before.”

“Not with anyone—” He’d been about to say, _besides my family, or in my gym class_ , but L’s lips were wet and slightly parted and Light blurted out, “—like you.”

L raised his eyebrows and made a humming noise, which might have meant he was pleased. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that.”

Light’s breath was fast and shallow. “You treat me like I’m your enemy.”

“I believe you are.”

“And I’m always trying to convince you otherwise.”

The water was too hot, the room too full of steam—that must have been why Light was so giddy, struggling to focus on L’s hand reaching out, his fingertips red-hot where they came to rest on Light’s chest—

“You haven’t been faking this,” said L.

“Neither have you.”

L shook his head and stepped forward again, and now he was so close his cock was almost touching Light where it pointed in between his thighs. He splayed his right hand on the wall beside Light’s head, and the shock of the cold chain against Light’s arm jolted him into taking a sharp breath.

“Are you faking it now?” said L.

Light couldn’t look away from L’s eyes. What was he trying to see? “No,” Light whispered, and he raised his other hand. He wanted to push L away. He wanted to increase the heart-pounding, dizzyingly small space between them, so why was his hand settling on L’s shoulder and sliding around to grab the back of his neck where his hair was shaggy and soft?

But L didn’t move then, even pushed back against the slight pressure of Light’s hand. He tugged gently on Light’s wrist, and Light let go of his cock—it bumped L’s when it sprung free, and Light made a small, helpless noise.

“You have to believe me,” he said. He was trembling. He wasn’t even sure what he was talking about anymore. “I’m not—I don’t know—please—”

“I believe you,” said L, and then, finally, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to Light’s.

It was clumsy, not that Light had much experience—he probably wasn’t doing any better—but it was good, soft and clean with the taste of water, and the feeling that the entire world was warmth and L’s wet, naked body so close and around him. Light felt like he was burning, but he wasn’t sure how that was possible, because L’s skin felt even hotter at his hip where Light had grabbed him to pull him closer. And where their cocks pressed together—that was hottest of all, and Light throbbed and ached.

L’s hand slipped between them and wrapped around both their cocks in his long-fingered grip. Light gasped when L finally broke their kiss, and started to tell him _yes, yes, do it—_

“I’ve never done this part before,” said L.

Light swallowed his words, panting. “Neither have I,” he admitted. He looked down. He couldn’t stop himself from assessing—L’s cock wasn’t quite as thick, and it looked a bit shorter, too, so maybe that was why he was suddenly uncertain—and then Light looked back at L’s thin, flushed face and considered, as he always did, another possibility: perhaps L had been nervous the whole time.

Light slid his cock out of L’s hand. “I can show you what—what I’ve been doing.”

L seemed unable to speak. He jerked his head in an awkward nod, his gaze fixed downward on Light’s cock.

Light began to stroke himself, more carefully than he had been alone, because he was so hard that he felt himself in danger of ending this far too soon. It was amazingly different from the times on his own, somehow more intoxicating with the nervous energy he had always felt while under L’s gaze coursing through him. Always felt, he realized. Maybe the tension between them hadn’t been all hostility after all—and he almost laughed at the thought that he hated L, who was naked in front of him, who was now touching his own cock too.

“That’s how you do it?” said Light, watching L’s hand move. His strokes were longer, and twisted over the head of his dick; Light found himself wanting to try that out.

“Yes,” said L, so quietly that Light could barely hear him over the pounding of the water on the floor. “And you?”

“I’ve been doing it harder,” said Light. His dick was begging for a tighter grip now, too. “But I was worried I might come too fast...”

L moaned softly, the same sound he had been making during his showers, and Light couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Is this what you were thinking about?”

“No,” said L, and Light was momentarily disappointed, until L gasped, “I was pretending you were doing it to me instead.”

Light shivered at the jolt those words sent through him. His hand trembled as he reached out and wrapped his fingers around L’s cock. “Like this?” he said hoarsely, stroking once.

L whimpered and hung his head, and Light did it again, harder, emboldened by the surge of power. Was he going to make L come? Was he going to get to see it?

Then L’s hand was around Light’s cock and moving so warm and firm and insistently that Light forgot everything else. He felt himself tightening quickly, so quickly, it was too good, he had to try to hold back—and then he sailed right past the point of inevitability, and he squeezed L’s hip in warning, but it was too late. Light moaned helplessly and shuddered as he came in L’s hand.

When he came back to himself, feeling heavy and slow, he realized that he was still holding L’s painfully hard cock. L took Light’s hips firmly in both hands and said, “Do it for me. Please.”

Light stroked him, gently, wanting to watch it build. L closed his eyes, his expression pinched with need, and made strange gasping sounds. His fingers tightened. “Oh,” he groaned faintly, and he gasped one last time and tensed as his cock pulsed and spilled over Light’s hand and stomach.

Light let go and watched it drip off his hand. The rain of the shower was deafening. L was swaying slightly, perhaps only his grip on Light keeping him upright. He opened his eyes and blinked; he looked, for the first time Light could remember, sleepy.

“Turn around,” said Light. “Let me wash your back.”

“All right,” mumbled L. They shuffled around together until Light had slicked his hands with soap and they both stood in the spray of water.

“You didn’t make the same noises as before,” Light said, running his hands over L’s back. The skin there was rough with small bumps. Funny, how after everything else, this could feel so intimate.

“Hmm. You didn’t either.” L yawned. “You had exaggerated greatly, you know.”

“So, really, we were both faking it,” said Light.

L twisted his head to look back at Light with a little wistful smile. “And we both weren’t.”


End file.
